Lyrics
All I see is dead people
Come through the hood, niggas starving
If you ain’t tryna pay what I’m charging
All I see is dead people
I ain’t doing no arguing
No deals, I ain’t giving no bargains
My Glock 9 give you 16 ways to die — choose one
Give it to ya how you want it My .45 give you 32 ways to die — choose one
It’s shoot 'em up bang, bang, shit, we still on it, nigga
Every day a star’s rising
It ain’t no love here, but your heart’s tied in Soul’s slipping, sparks flying
Masterpieces is an art dying
Crime release, we break apart lying
Man down, the parts crying
Tears of joys heal a real McCoy
Bury your worries, don’t wonder who rides for ya Know yourself, relax and study
Bloody your uniform, no rest, keep moving on Anybody who do you wrong, wrong turn, it’s on Somebody chain got took, somebody life got lost
Somebody water not working, somebody lights cut off
I watched my partner OD in '03 in front of me Took the plea, went on a spree, damn near did the whole ki Paranoid, nose dirty, 'bout to go for them thirty
You keep saying he’s hurting, now all his homies is worried
Second-guessing this gangster, they don’t know what he said
They don’t know what he told, but now you know that he dead
All I see is dead people
Come through the hood, niggas starving
If you ain’t tryna pay what I’m charging
All I see is dead people
I ain’t doing no arguing
No deals, I ain’t giving no bargains
My Glock 9 give you 16 ways to die — choose one
Give it to ya how you want it My .45 give you 32 ways to die — choose one
It’s shoot 'em up bang, bang, shit, we still on it, nigga
I’m in them trenches like I’m a marine sniper in his Gillie suit
HK, SK, turn niggas vegetable
Live past 22 like climbing Mount Everest with one shoe or flip-flop
Middle finger to the opp'
Bacon, egg and cheese at my clip from last night
Smoking, think about that drama from last night
Emotion in your mind, love and hate cause casualty
These old dogs wack in that cave mentality
Dope boy salary, block ground athlete
Move so much weight I lost a couple calories
The palms sells the size of deep batteries
Get hit like Jay Rock when that fat nigga squeeze
My homie Kenny Booth doing life over 8 racks
He broke down in court when they played the tape back
I’m from Mazant, 6 shots, I ate that
Now I won’t pay back, let my kids slay that
All I see is dead people
Come through the hood, niggas starving
If you ain’t tryna pay what I’m charging
All I see is dead people
I ain’t doing no arguing
No deals, I ain’t giving no bargains
My Glock 9 give you 16 ways to die — choose one
Give it to ya how you want it My .45 give you 32 ways to die — choose one
It’s shoot 'em up bang, bang, shit, we still on it, nigga